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“They aren’t identical,” I say. “But the line work repeats. The open shape here might match this section if the direction is reversed.”

Scarlet rotates the photograph. The room grows quiet.

“The old maps used symbols like these,” Scarlet says. “My grandmother separated protective sites from routes that opened toward moving water.”

Honey looks at the stone. “So it could be a map marker?”

“A route marker,” I say slowly. The idea settles into place with a click I feel in my chest. “Yes! It’s a route stone.”

The house knocks again. Two taps this time, farther toward the back of the house.

Ezra’s shoulder sharpens. Theo’s thumb moves against him.

I speak faster as the connections gather. “The knocks keep directing us to objects or rooms. The stone points us toward water. It led us to the original gazebo site beside the cemetery. Ezra strengthens along those same paths.”

“Pepper,” Honey says softly, “breathe.”

“I’m breathing.”

“Your brain is sprinting and your words aren’t catching up.”

“She does that,” Junie says.

I inhale properly because unfortunately, they’re right. Then I show them the photograph from the gazebo marker.

J. Vines. East Route.

Honey’s mouth falls open.

Junie looks at me. “That’s your last name.”

“I noticed.”

“Did you notice this calmly? Because my name in a haunted graveyard would freak me out.”

“I’m absolutely freaked out. And very curious.”

“And that’s where we differ,” Junie says solemnly.

I slide the brass tag from its sleeve.

Vines field notes: lilies, ash, chalk, ribbon.

Scarlet reads it twice.

I explain how the stone led us to the loose white cloth, the chalk line opening toward the water, and the old swamp lily.

“The materials are older than the drugged relief bundles,” I say. “They aren’t packaged the same way, and there was no synthetic smell. I think the newer bundles copied these route materials and changed their purpose.”

The statement scares me because it sounds right. It also sounds enormous. If I’m wrong, I could lead us into danger. If I’m right, danger was already following this same trail.

Scarlet turns the brass tag over. Three water lines. An open circle. She places it beside the stone and the image of the Love Stone.

“The same symbol family,” she says.

“But not the same direction,” I add.

Scarlet nods. “We need proper images before we can make any conclusions.”